Room
by anothermellofan
Summary: What really happened in Near and Mello's room?


There seems to be a misconception about the rivalry between Mello and Near. There was no drama, no fights, hardly anything at all. There was obvious tension, a constant cloud of mutual animosity between them. And there was Mello trying harder and harder every year and growing crazier and crazier for never succeeding. I was there always, supporting him, distracting him when it was obvious he needed it. Mello didn't know this at the time but I did the same for Near.

And yeah they were roommates. Not because Roger wanted to challenge them or anything like that. No, no, Mello requested to room with Near after it became clear that it was down to the two of them. Before that, Mello roomed with me. After that I lived alone and my grades plummeted. Without Mello there I had no reason to do homework in my spare time. I mean he'd always nag me about being lazy until I gave in and studied but yeah, once he moved out, I could just chill and be myself, I guess.

Either way, I don't know what went on in that room. The first week after the move, the other students would hover near their door hoping to witness the blow up first hand. I mean, everybody knew, Mello was a crazy ass dude. He'd been known to beat a dude up for looking at _me _the wrong way. He'd been caught with a pistol when he was just 9 years old. God only knew where he'd gotten it from or what he was doing with it. With Near's--and even I can admit this and I like the dude--with Near's irritatingly blank disposition and Mello's rather unstable one, surely there would be a spark. Surely the whole thing would ignite.

But there was nothing and everybody was disappointed while I was relieved. I asked Mello about it one time. I was all casual, I was all, "Hey, when are you moving back in with me?" and he was all, "Shut the fuck up," and yeah, I never did know what went on in that room. Nobody ever did.

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The librarian finally shooed Mello out of the library at midnight. The blonde packed up his books without comment realizing that he actually was quite tired. He stopped by Matt's room before heading to his own.

"You're still up," Mello said as he poked his head in the room.

"Yup," Matt was sitting up in bed playing a hand held game. The light from the screen made his face glow eerily in the dark. "Just waiting on you to tuck me in, Mummy."

"Fuck off," Mello scoffed.

"As soon as you leave, dear."

"Wanker."

"You bet."

Mello shut the door, smiling despite himself. He'd never known Matt to play video games when they lived together but now the red head always had one with him. Strange.

Mello went straight to his room from there his shoulder aching slightly from the weight of his books. When he entered the room he found Near asleep on his bed. Strange. Mello threw his books down hoping the resulting thud would wake the white haired child. It didn't.

"...the fuck," Mello wondered aloud. He and Near had been roommates for just over a month and this was the first time Near had crossed the invisible line that separated their sides of the room. The boy was curled up, lost in his over sized pajamas, his fists in front of his face, as if to ward off and impending attack. Or was he sucking his thumb? Mello couldn't tell.

He didn't want to wake the boy up. It would be rude. I mean, it was like, their room was a sacred place, where the rivalry couldn't enter. It's why Mello never studied in his room. He'd moved in to observe Near, to find and exploit his weak points. He knew he would have to be cordial if he wanted the boy to let his guard down. Since moving in Mello's average of 98% on tests had risen to a 99.5%. Tantalizingly close to Near's constant 100% average. Just living with the boy had done that much. So Mello had been looking forward to the day Near would relax that nonchalant attitude and reveal something Mello could use in the race toward L.

But he really hadn't expected _this._ What did it even mean? It rankled, having Near pull such an indecipherable move. But it was late and Mello wanted to be well rested for his test the next day. He stripped down to his boxers, climbed into Near's bed, and went to sleep.

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Mello just couldn't figure it out. Six months into living together and Mello still knew nothing about the anomaly known as Near. His average had petered out at a 99.8 % and Near still maintained his solid 100%. It was infuriating. Even more infuriating was Near's predilection for sleeping in Mello's bed. And it was unpredictable. Sometimes Mello would return to the room five nights in a row to find the puff ball lying on top of his sheets. Sometimes it would just be once a week. Near never offered any sort of explanation in the morning either. They tended to wake around the same time and they would nonchalantly cross to their own side of the room to prepare for the day, neither of them commenting on the swapped sleeping arrangements.

Mello felt like it had become some kind of game—the first person to mention it would lose—so he said nothing. Until one day after studying late into the evening, Mello opened his bedroom door to find both his and Near's beds empty. He checked the digital clock they shared. It read 1:23 AM. Near always went back to the room promptly after dinner time and didn't leave until the following morning. His toys were put away and his desk and bed were undisturbed. He clearly hadn't been there all day. Strange. It occurred to Mello that he'd never really had a chance to be in this room alone. Normally, if Near wasn't in class, he was in the room playing or completing assignments at his desk. This was Mello's chance to get some dirt on the little albino.

He went to the dresser and searched through the drawers: tighty whities, white undershirts, soft white socks. Mello furrowed around in the back of the drawer hoping to find something hidden away. There was nothing. He checked the other drawers as well and to his surprise discovered normal clothes: blue jeans, t-shirts and sweaters of varying colors. Why did Near have these clothes if he never intended to wear them? What was with the pajama thing in the first place? Weirdo.

The dresser revealed nothing interesting so Mello moved to the bed. He lifted the mattress and found a journal underneath. The leather bound book called to Mello but he resisted the urge to rifle through its pages. Clearly if Near really wanted to hide it he wouldn't have left it in such an obvious place. It was probably a plant, something to distract Mello from the truth, from the real secret. The secret that had to be somewhere in that room! Mello let the mattress drop back down and straightened the blankets up half heartedly. He didn't care if the little brainiac knew he'd been spying.

Where to look, where to look ... Mello dropped to all fours and looked under the bed. There was nothing there but dust. Did this child really have no skeletons in his closet? How creepy. Everyone had a past, and more than likely, a Whammy's kid had a traumatic past. What was Near hiding behind that impenetrable gaze and unfathomable habit of sleeping in Mello's bed?

The clock now read 1:50 A.M. and Mello was exhausted. He went over too his side of the room and stripped down to his shorts. Mello had never owned a pair of pajamas in his life and found sleeping in his underwear suited him just fine. He knelt down by his bed and did his evening prayers and when he finished, inspiration struck. Whether from on high or down below, he didn't consider. He went over to Near's bed, pulled back the covers and climbed inside. "Let's see how you like it, cotton ball."

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Mello awoke suddenly but remained still. He often woke up like that—jerking awake mentally but not physically. It couldn't be any later than 6 A.M. He was wide awake and far too aware of the warm breath puffing against the back of his neck.

He didn't dare turn around but there was only one explanation. Near, upon discovering Mello in his bed the night before, had simply climbed in behind him. Strange. Mello fully expected to deal with a questioning Near, or even a silent Near that simply fell asleep in Mello's bed without comment. But to awake to the feel of Near's mouth against his neck, arm around his waist, and morning glory poking into his backside? Yeah, no, he hadn't really mentally prepared for that scenario.

Mello lay their stunned, more than a little surprised that Near dealt with nocturnal erections as if he were an actual human child. He also felt mildly offended that Near would take such liberties with his actual person. Sleeping in his bed was one thing, but cuddling him as if he were a stuffed toy? That was just crossing the line.

"Near," Mello said gruffly, "If you would be so kind as to get the _fuck _off of me."

The white child behind him woke up and withdrew immediately. He didn't jerk away as if shocked or embarrassed. He just shifted his hips away then removed his arm, allowing his fingertips to slide over Mello's waist as if reluctant to let go.

Mello trembled at the intimate touch and snapped, "You're very rude, you know that?" He was still facing away from Near, toward the wall.

"So says the boy sleeping naked in _my _bed." Near's voice was scratchy, deeper than normal. What was that about? Fatigue? What time had he finally returned to the room last night? Mello couldn't tell but he was indignant as hell.

He whipped around to face his nemesis shouting, "First of all, I'm not naked. Second of all, puff ball, you fall asleep in my bed all the time!"

Mello was cheering inside. Surely Near would have to explain his odd behavior, thereby revealing some hidden truth about his enigmatic personality.

"That's different," Near said, actually giving Mello what could only be described as a "DUH" look. With that he threw back the covers and started stripping out of his white pajamas. When he was down to those ridiculous tighty whities, Mello found his voice.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to bathe. When I'm done, you should do the same."

Mello boggled at the audacity of that statement, while committing the words and their delivery to memory. Near never spoke to him inside their room. Their space was rivalry and conversation free. And the sight of Near in his underwear, all hip bones, and skinny legs, was very distracting. He was bony but soft, his sedentary lifestyle preventing him from gaining the wiry muscle that Mello had developed with puberty. Near's chest was narrow but his shoulders were broader than expected. He was beginning to change, in that way that boys do ... this was made painfully obvious by the erection Near was still sporting, apparently without shame.

"What the hell have you got a stiffy over then?"

Near grabbed his bath towel and two rubber duckies before turning toward Mello who was still reclining in the bed.

"Sometimes sexual arousal occurs spontaneously. Surely you know this from personal experience?"

"Well, yeah, but", Mello switched gears trying to regain control of the conversation, "Wait a minute, how is it different for you to sleep in my bed? That is just hypocrisy, milky." Without comment, Near retreated into their en suite bathroom and audibly locked the door behind him.

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Mello didn't realize it until later, but that little scene with Near had really disturbed him. He couldn't stop looking at the boy. He took to spending more and more time in their shared room, ogling him as he built train sets and castles out of dice. It was like he might somehow develop x-ray vision and be able to see straight past the hair and skin and skull, and directly into the workings of Near's brain. No such thing happened. All that happened was the slow, but steady decline in Mello's scores. One spring morning, Roger called him into his office, citing that he was concerned about Mello's sudden disinterest in the competition for 'L'. He explained that if Mello needed to "talk" with anyone, they had resources available to meet any emotional need he might have.

"Perhaps you might like to move back in with your friend, the unremarkable one with the red hair."

"His name's Matt."

"Right, that one. How about it?"

Mello brushed off Roger's concern but made it a point to devote more time to his studies. How had things gone so awry? He'd planned to move in with Near so he could overtake the boy and now he was performing worse than he ever had before!

That day Mello stayed away from his room. He planted himself in the library and studied non-stop, even skipping dinner. Matt tried to visit with him.

"You've been weird," he said, not really looking up from his hand held.

Mello likewise didn't look up from his text book and merely grunted in response.

"So, when are you moving back in with me?"

"Shut the fuck up," Mello said, staring Matt in the eyes. He didn't want to discuss Near with Matt, not at all. Matt smirked as if he knew something that Mello didn't. As a matter of fact, Mello hadn't seen much of Matt lately. And Near had taken to disappearing late into the evening several nights a week. Mello wondered but couldn't bring himself to ask if the red head and cream puff had struck up some kind of friendship. The idea was ludicrous. What would they even talk about besides ... Mello himself.

That night when Mello got to his room to find Near curled up on top of the covers he cursed out loud and slammed the door. The marshmallow didn't stir. He was dressed in immaculately white pajamas, as per usual, and his knees were pulled to his chest. His shirt had ridden up a little bit, revealing the smooth white skin of his flank. Mello suddenly felt the energy leave him. It was late and something about being on such neutral ground, took the fight out of him. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed over Near, settling into his favorite sleeping spot, close to the wall. He

It must have been several hours later that Mello felt lips on the side of his neck. His skin was very sensitive there and he groaned before he could stop himself. Near was awake, leaning on his left elbow, and caressing Mello with his right hand. His head was buried in the crook of his Mello's neck and the feel of his soft lips, wet tongue and hot breath had Mello shaking with desire.

Shaking with desire for Near. That thought jarred painfully with the reality Mello had grown used to. Near was a puff ball, a rice cake, a non-feeling, shell of a boy that Mello had to figure out in order to beat. Near was not someone that sucked on Mello's neck until he bruised and moaned. Except, that's exactly what he was doing.

"Near," Mello's voice was tight with arousal, "Knock it off."

Near trailed his mouth up Mello's neck until their lips met and Mello's mind went haywire as he experienced his first kiss. While Mello focused on the feel of a foreign tongue in his mouth, Near's hand crept into Mello's boxer shorts.

"Oh!" Mello's body jerked so hard he nearly left the bed, "D-don't do that."

Near removed his hand from Mello's boxers and settled his hand on a bony hip instead.

"I don't understand your verbal protests," Near spoke directly into his ear and Mello let out a little cry at the pleasurable sensation, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"No! Please, just back off, this is nuts! Fuck!"

"Okay. Well, this is what I want," Near climbed on top of Mello and straddled his hips, "Thinking about Mello makes me hard. I think Mello should let me have sex with him."

In that position Near was able to grind his erection into Mello's equally hard member and Mello just couldn't think of why he shouldn't _ever _fool around with his roommate with all those pleasurable sensations gathering between his legs.

"Near, I'm not some toy, I'm not a doll. If you get me worked up, you'd better be ready to go, and I mean all the way." Mello reached around and groped Near's buttocks to make his meaning clear.

Near moaned out loud, "I'm ready, M. Do whatever you want."

Mello couldn't believe it. This had to be a dream. He was finally going to have sex with another person! At the peak of his arousal it didn't matter that the person was Near of all people.

They undressed quickly, both determined and eager to get off.

Mello found himself shocked by Near's responsiveness in bed. The white haired child grabbed, kissed, moaned, and writhed under Mello's attention.

After making out and fooling around for a while, Mello pushed the boy's knees back and apart and pressed his aching erection against Near's exposed anus.

"You want this, you want me?"

"Yes, let's do it."

Mello pushed forward against the tight aperture and ... got nowhere. He shoved a little bit harder and felt the ring of muscle start to give, but only slightly.

"Stop it, stop it, don't--please don't move."

"What? Why?" Mello breathed against the younger boy's neck. It was tight, and the friction burned a little bit but it still felt so much better than his own hand. Mello really had no interest in stopping just yet. He pushed in a little further.

"OW!" Near practically shrieked. Mello looked down at the shaking boy beneath him and took in the pained expression: furrowed brow, top teeth digging into his bottom lip. He felt guilt tug at him and kissed Near's perspiring forehead in apology as he began to pull out.

"Don't move!" Near shouted.

"I thought you wanted me to stop?"

"I do but it hurts so bad when you move," Near whimpered in a voice transformed by pain.

"Fuck, we need some kind of lubrication. Should have thought of that before ..."

"Please, get out of me—OW!"

"How do you expect me to extract myself without moving?"

"I don't know!"

Mello marveled at the tears welling up in Near's eyes. "You're crying. Don't cry."

"It's a spontaneous physical response to pain, there is nothing I can do about it."

"Okay, we need some kind of lube, something to slick you up."

"Why haven't you lost your erection? Does seeing me in pain arouse you?"

"Near, shut up, I'm trying to think!"

Mello knew there was no way to get out of this situation other than pulling out despite Near's vehement protests. It would have to be like ripping off a band-aid. He wasn't in too deep. He wouldn't actually hurt the boy. At least, he hoped not.

Because honestly his erection was going nowhere. The boy's hot asshole felt too good, and yes, it was kind of a turn on, having the puff ball quivering beneath him and at his mercy.

Mello shifted so that his hands were pressing Near's shoulders into the mattress, pinning him down.

"Mello—Uh—no—"

Mello continued to pull back, almost completely unsheathed. It was hard to ignore Near's plaintive cries, and even harder to ignore his instinctive desire to thrust back in to that unfathomable heat.

"Almost there, it's okay," Mello mumbled as a bead of sweat fell off the tip of his nose. With one final determined yank his dick popped out of Near's asshole.

Mello sat back on his heels and watched as Near whimpered and touched his abused anus tentatively, searching for signs of damage.

"You're okay," Mello breathed.

"Leave me alone, Mello."

Near's voice was quiet, cold. Mello's heart dropped at the dismissive tone. His arousal finally began to subside as his anger started to build.

"You said you were ready to go all the way. It's not my fault you weren't."

"I only said that because for some unknowable reason I trusted you to know what you were doing. I won't make that mistake again."

Mello came _this _close to slapping Near but he punched a pillow instead.

"Why did you start this in the first place? Why did you start sleeping in my bed?"

"The same reason you moved into my room." Near's voice was quiet but not cold. His expression was intense as he stared at Mello.

"Oh, enlighten me. Why did I move into your room?"

"To be close to me. That's why I sleep in your bed. Sometimes I want to be close to you. Desire is a human failing that even I can't deny. I like the sight, feel and scent of your body. And you feel the same about me. Am I wrong?"

"Are you ever wrong?" Mello couldn't even gather his thoughts.

"No. Never," Near snatched his pajamas from the foot of the bed and dressed quickly, "Let's go to sleep. We can try to have sex again tomorrow night with you on the bottom."

How did Near always get the last word? Mello realized he was failing miserably at his mission. He knew nothing about Near that he could use against him in the race toward L. He only knew that not only was he enthralled by Near's unfathomable intellect, he had now succumbed to the unfathomable pleasures of his pale, soft, adolescent body.

"... the fuck," Mello thought aloud before he drifted off into a deep comfortable sleep.

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No one ever knew what went on in Near and Mello's room but I can make an educated guess. Because you know, despite my laziness, I'm not stupid. Neither Mello or Near would have given me the time of day if I was. But yeah, I bet you, I bet you that inside Near and Mello's room there was a series of sparks and fights and kisses driven by pure admiration, and maybe even love. I bet that's why Near moved out of that room when Mello ran away. I bet that's why Mello could never look me in the eye when he fucked me. Mixed up in all that power, knowledge, love and hate, well, I guess there just wasn't enough room for me, now was there?


End file.
